


Djinn & Tonic

by FrozenHearts



Series: BBC Merlin Crossovers [3]
Category: Merlin (TV), The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Blaviken, Canon Compliant, Chains, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Djinni & Genies, False Accusations, Gen, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Whump, Guards, Gwaine Being Gwaine (Merlin), Hurt Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Imprisonment, M/M, Magic, Mentioned Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Non-Consensual Touching, Novigrad (The Witcher), Protective Knights (Merlin), Season 1 Episode 5 (Witcher TV), Temeria (The Witcher), Threats of Violence, Wrongful Imprisonment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:28:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21883012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenHearts/pseuds/FrozenHearts
Summary: The Knights of the Round Table visit Temeria, only to he wrongfully imprisoned due to Merlin's carelessness with his magic.The jail they find themselves in is less than ideal.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Merlin, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Other(s), Jaskier | Dandelion & Merlin, Jaskier | Dandelion/Gwaine (Merlin)
Series: BBC Merlin Crossovers [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1373917
Comments: 13
Kudos: 156





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Watched the witcher on netflix and im loving it!! Especially the episode about the djinn it was quite exciting
> 
> Here's a little crossover with BBC Merlin- for some reason if anything is fantasy i need to make a Merlin crossover it's just habit at this point lmao

Merlin's magic was still a new aspect of life that Arthur sometimes struggled to accept. He would watch as Merlin used it to scrub the floors and make the bed while serving him and Gwen breakfast. He would notice when Merlin grinned that little grin- the one that told Arthur he was going to possibly try something dumb- before a knight just so happened to trip up during a sparring session. Gwen had even mentioned that her maids would gush over the flowers Merlin would conjure from his palm and tuck in their hair before going off to make magic animals for the children in the lower towns. 

It was hard to believe that magic could be good, considering how the people lived under Uther's rule. Fear and disdain for even the slightest inkling of magic had people running for the pyre. But even after his father's death, even after the whole fiasco with Morgana and Agravaine, Merlin prevailed and magic was free once more. 

While it was a new age for Camelot, however, other kingdoms still struggled with the notion that magic could be a source for good. Merlin always told Arthur that it was men who were evil, not the magic or the tool used to commit said evil, but The Continent, a neighboring land to the west of Camelot, was still stuck on the idea that magic wasn't to be trifled with. 

"Are we sure we want to go to The Continent, of all places?" Arthur asked Merlin as they boarded their boat at the docks. The knights were already onboard, Arthur hearing their shouts and laughter from a ways away. "I mean, they persecute magic just as much as they allow it."

Merlin shrugged, "Obviously the presence of magic is needed there, despite how they feel about it. We can help them see it isn't all bad, though."

The ramp creaked underfoot as Arthur and Merlin finally boarded the boat, "Yes, but last we heard, Sorceresses and mages were being hunted down-"

"And Triss told me there was a man who bridged the gap between man and magic," Merlin cut him off, "Once we find him, we'll be able to...."

Arthur scoffed as his servant trailed off. Sure, he trusted Merlin, and knew that as Emrys, he was in contact with other magical beings and creatures around the world, but while Arthur trusted Merlin, the king wasn't sure if he trusted this Triss. He had seen her once, with green eyes and bright red hair and freckles on her nose through a portal when she had called on Merlin for help. 

"And then what?" Arthur pressed, "Everything is all hunky dory and the Continent accepts magic?"

Merlin paused, fiddling with his silly red neckerchief before finally shrugging and saying, "Well, since they already have the magic basis in their lifestyle, let's hope things work out?"

Arthur spluttered, failing to find the precise words needed to yell at his idiot servant- was he daft? Did he not hide his magic for years while living under Uther's rule? Or was that a totally different Merlin and this one popped out of the woodwork once the magic ban was lifted? 

"Things may not be quite so simple, friends!" A melodic voice rang out, along with the twang of the lute. Arthur and Merlin turned to find a man of average height, lean in build with brown hair strumming his instrument, sitting on a bucket near the mast of the ship. His brown hair was windswept, his blue tunic and pantaloons bright against the dark wood.

"And who might you be?" Arthur said, ambling towards him. Merlin followed, an interested look in his eye.

"Depends on who you ask- the Lady Anna de Henrietta calls me 'love!' The enchanting Elihal will say I'm a fiend but ever so fondly- hell, even you may come to call me friend!"

Merlin snorted, shaking his head as he leaned in to whisper to Arthur, "Way more entertaining than George ever will be, Arthur."

"At least George can actually do his job," Arthur retorted half-heartedly.

The man with the lute was eyeing them with a mischievous glare, his smile mirthful as he began to play an idle tune on his instrument. 

"And is this George of yours perhaps ornery to the finer things in life as you are, ser?" the bard asked with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Face heated, Arthur blushed as he managed a curt "No!" as Merlin finally asked, "So what do they call you, ser bard?"

Beaming, the bard jumped up, one foot planted on the bucket, his shoulders pushed back proudly as he announced, "Far and wide I am known as Dandelion, but mine name is Jaskier! Bard extraordinaire and friend to all who come!"

Arthur exchanged a look with Merlin, "Right, well, what do you know of the Continent?"

At this, Jaskier's smile seemed to stretch ever wider, his strumming picking up until he was playing a whole introduction. Around them, even the knights had stopped roughhousing to sit round the music, Gwaine urging Merlin to sit next to him as the bard began his tale.

"Now, as you know the Continent is not just home to magic, but is offered to the gods, the creatures that inhabit it quite fearful indeed," Jaskier hummed along with his lute, "The Lodge may exist, but one man persists- yes he braves the wild woods and lagoons!"

Great. They were forced to listen to a song- was Arthur not really able to get a straight answer from this guy? One look at Merlin told Arthur that the servant was quite enamored with the tune, Gwaine and the other knights slowly getting into it as well, humming and tapping along with the beat.

"Destiny plays a spare part, yes indeed, for her work is never quite done," Jaskier sang, "For a Witcher's work goes on forever, he never goes down with the sun-"

A Witcher, huh? Arthur wondered what meant. Was it the male version of a witch? A warlock, like Merlin, perhaps? Of course, it could be a Witcher was something else entirely-

"I'll explain later, Arthur," Merlin's whisper broke through Arthur's thoughts, Jaskier singing as if they hadn't been talking during his performance.

"Now toss a coin to your Witcher!" Jaskier boomed, tossing vis head back dramatically, "Oh valley of plenty, the man who stays fighting from dawn way past noon-"

The song finished shortly after, the knights clapping politely as Jaskier strummed the final note, bowing obnoxiously as he finished. Turning to Arthur and Merlin, Jaskier asked, "Does that answer your question, sers?"

Arthur shook his head, "Unfortunately, no."

"Lovely song though, mate," Gwaine commended, "Really lulls one to sleep like a babe-"

"Oh, I can do plenty more to put you to sleep, handsome," Jaskier purred, winking at Gwaine, receiving a playful slap on the back from Elyan, "But! I can introduce you to the man himself, if you like."

Arthur bit his lip, "This... Witcher?"

Jaskier nodded, "Oh, yes- he's my best friend, I get all my ballads from our adventures- I've got quite the tale involving a goat, a bell and a scrap of silk-"

"That's okay!" Merlin was quick to cut him off, laughing nervously, "But if you could introduce us, that would be great."

Stamping his foot back down on the ground, Jaskier bowed, "I must bid thee goodnight, but first thing come morning, we shall call for him at once."

Arthur had a sinking feeling, as they bid Jaskier goodnight, that things were probably not going to go as well as the bard and Merlin thought.


	2. Chapter 2

Once they got off the boat in the morning, Jaskier was quick to usher the knights towards a pub, whistling and waving to any passerby that caught his eye.

"The Rosemary and Thyme," Jaskier proudly presented a quaint building, with a rusty shingled roof and yellow stucco walls. Tables and chairs were outside by the door, and the knights could hear music coming from inside as the door constantly swung open as people came and went. 

"It's... nice," was all Arthur found he could say.

Jaskier shrugged, slinging his lute across his back, "Yeah, well, I want to change it up a bit. Repaint the walls, hire some new talent- a cabaret! Splendid indeed, don't you think?"

"Not that this isn't nice-" Leon piped up from the back of the group, and Arthur realized the man had been rather quiet about everything, "but-"

"Yes, yes, you need to meet the Witcher-" Jaskier rolled his eyes, ushering the group to sit at a large table nearby. "- honestly, I get it, I really do. He's rugged, he's handsome and has a jawline for days-"

"Don't sell yourself short there, mate," Gwaine drawled, leaning back in his chair, "Quite the fellow, you are."

Now Jaskier was blushing, but was quick to brush it off as he swatted Gwaine's shoulder, opening his mouth to no doubt say something he thought was witty, only to have a gruff, gravelly voice respond instead.

"Don't encourage him."

Jaskier perked up immediately, practically pouncing on the new arrival as he dragged over a chair. Setting it next to Merlin, the man fell heavily into the seat; Arthur caught the way Merlin's nose wrinkled at the smell of blood, shit and whatever else the man was covered in. It drenched his clothes and skin. His hair limp and stringy as it went unwashed. 

"Geralt!" Jaskier cried, moving to hug him only to draw away just as fast, "Why in the seven hells are you so dirty?!"

"Dealing with a horde of Drowners," was all Geralt said, gold eyes- gold!- roaming the group sitting at the table. 

While Arthur was used to gold eyes, having seen Merlin's change color when he used magic, this man's eyes... they were something else. The gold color was bright, almost a deep yellow and his pupils practically resembled thin slits, like a cat's. Just looking at them made Arthur's skin crawl, how deep they seemed to bore into him, how old they looked despite the man's somewhat youthful appearance. 

Jaskier tutted in disapproval, "And you decide it's a good idea to drag it around instead of taking a bath?"

Geralt snorted into his hand as he wiped at his mouth, despite his hand looking more dirty, "And have you rub camomile on my bottom?"

"I said that in jest!" Jaskier protested, "Besides! I'm the one who has to pay the smithy when the blood drains into the floor!"

Arthur stole a quick look at the man's trouser to see the stuff leaking into the woos of the chair where Geralt sat. He seemed indifferent as he snagged Percival's cup of ale, taking a long swig before crunching up his face, coughing hard. Shaking his head, Geralt gave the half empty mug back to Percival, "Maybe if you didn't gamble all your money away in Gwent you could afford to do it."

Jaskier blew a raspberry, ruffling Geralt's hair playfully before sauntering off to the stairs across the way, leaving Arthur and his knights sitting with the man who was becoming more intimidating once his friend had left. 

"You're a king," Geralt jutted his chin at Arthur.

"Arthur of Camelot," Arthur explained, "and the Knights of the Round Table."

Geralt hummed, eerie eyes scanning over the knights; even Percival seemed nervous, shifting slightly in his hilariously tiny chair. Elyan and Leon had turned to their mugs and Gwaine seemed indifferent, fiddling with his hair and staring at his reflection in his silver cup like he hadn't a care in the world. 

"And what brings you to the Continent?" Geralt crossed his arms, muscles flexing menacingly, "Surely not Jaskier's ballads."

Gwaine chuckled, "Man is quite the charmer!"

"Gwaine!" Elyan hissed under his breath.

Geralt hummed in amusement, his chair creaking as he moved to stand. Tossing a few coins on the table, he nodded his head, "Well. Sitting on my ass doesn't pay. Enjoy your stay at the Continent, sers."

\-----

Temeria, as it turned out, was much like Camelot in certain aspects. The town was bustling with people, dancers peddled for money as men marketed their latest wares at haphazardly built stalls. Dwarves and elves roamed the streets alongside humans and Merlin felt absolutely alive with the trill of magic hanging in the air, even if the town's inhabitants were unaware of the affect. 

Gwaine strolled alongside Merlin, chewing on the stalk of a flower he had purchased from a pretty elven woman at a stall. His swagger was as relaxed as ever, Merlin noted, and he seemed so at home as he teased children playing hopscotch or waved hello to a dwarf that it was almost like the man never left Camelot to begin with. 

"You seem pretty comfortable with the amount of magic present," Merlin pointed out.

Gwaine shrugged, "It's like you always say: magic itself isn't evil. And before I was a knight I was always on the run. Couldn't afford to be picky about whether or not someone had magic anyway."

Merlin hummed under his breath, clasping his hands tighter around the strap of his bag; it was quite full after stopping in the market, stuffed with maps and food and knick knacks the knights had deemed worthy enough to bring back home as souvenirs- Merlin had sneaked a few candied apples for himself, from a little girl who had wide gold eyes and a gap-toothed grin.

"I suppose," Merlin agreed, "but even here, it seems strange, the way magic works rather than back home, don't you think?"

Gwaine raised an eyebrow, "Like you think it feels different?"

Merlin nodded, "Yeah. It just... never mind."

Gwaine's elbow was sharp against his ribs as he nudged him, "C'mon, mate- tell me what's on your mind!"

Merlin fidgeted, plucking at the hem of his neckerchief before sighing, "When Triss- another sorcereress- explained the bridge between magic and man, I couldn't help but feel like she was talking about me."

Gwaine chuckled, "You are Emrys, it stands to reason, yeah?"

Merlin had to agree there. Apparently- and this was according to Mordred who wasn't exactly trustworthy on the best of days- Emrys was a name known far and wide, even beyond Camelot's borders. Kings cowered at it, dragons and druids revered it; it was nice, to be respected in such a way, but Merlin wished it wasn't quite so... anticlimactic here, if that was the right way to think about it. Triss had even been pretty standoffish about the whole thing when they spoke, but the Continent seemed to have more issues than just the most possibly powerful being to roam the planet visiting a dinky little town. 

As Merlin was lost in his thoughts, a tune began to play, soft in the air, a gentle strumming with a pretty hum. He bobbed his head along with it as it grew louder, and soon he and Gwaine were standing in a square watching none other than Jaskier perform with what was most likely his troupe, dancing upon a creaky wooden stage and strumming his instrument like his life depended on it. 

A woman with long blonde hair danced with him, and Merlin realized: a duet. She had a lovely voice, deep and smooth to compliment Jaskier's higher notes. 

"What a pair, huh?" Gwaine snickered, snapping his fingers in time with the song.

Grinning, Merlin waggled his eyebrows, "You seem to be noticing Jaskier a lot- it's only been a day!"

Gwaine blew a raspberry, shoving Merlin playfully but there was no denying the blush dusting his cheeks as he protested, "Managed to woo some maidens in a lot less time before I met all of you sticks in the mud!"

The song came to an end, and Merlin clapped politely whilst the woman- Jaskier announced her as Priscilla- took a bow, and soon the troupe had taken their stage apart, Jaskier weaving through the crowd to find-

"Geralt, old friend!" Jaskier crooned and they watched as the bard settled next to the witcher, who was leaning with his arms crossed against the support beam of a market stall. "Surely, this performance must have stirred something within? Some deep desire thusly foretold?"

"Hmmm," Geralt cocked his head as he adjusted his stance, pretending to think about it before stating point blank, "Mostly my deep desire to take a nap."

Jaskier scoffed, horror etched into the stretch of his jaw as he gasped and it took Merlin a second to realize that Jaskier had spotted him and Gwaine in the crowd.

It took another two seconds and Gwaine roughly ushering him forward to realize that Jaskier was demanding an answer, an opinion to the performance.

Gwaine puffed out his chest, taking one of Jaskier's hands leaning down to kiss the back of it; Geralt tensed as he watched and Merlin saw a flicker of worry in his eye before it melted into disgruntled indifference.

"Stunning, truly," Gwaine winked at the bard, "I was telling Merlin-"

"To get flowers!" Merlin cut him off at Geralt's flex of muscle, wringing his hands, "I said if he really wants to commend your performance he should get you flowers!"

Jaskier beamed, mock surprise on his fave as he smacked Geralt's arm, "See! Ser Gwaine knows how to appreciate my singing!"

Geralt hummed, "It's like ordering a pie only to find it has no filling. Much like his head- empty."

Merlin laughed as Gwaine squawked indignantly, his words lost to the witcher as he teased him. Well, Merlin would have to get flowers now... looking around, he could see many stalls had been taken down for the rest of the day, many shop windows hanging signs in their windows.

Hmmm. The Continent had magic, though.... Merlin felt his magic hum under his skin, his eyes turning from sea blue to molten gold. He was pretty sure he heard Jaskier gasp in delight as orange wisps of magic sprouted from Merlin's fingers, and once it settled, a lily sat in his palm, white petals soft against his fingers as he handed it to the bard. 

"Well!"Jaskier grinned, "I'll treasure it always-"

"That's what you say to all the women," Geralt snorted.

"I do not! And obviously, Gwaine is of the like-minded sex-"

Merlin was about to ask Gwaine why his gace was so red when it happened- a storm of iron clad knights rushed into the almost empty square, weapons drawn and pointed at the four of them. Gwaine stepped closer to Merlin, and Merlin saw Geralt push Jaskier behind him as well, shoulders squared and fists cracking as he prepared himself.

"Witcher!" the leader said, a portly but strong looking man came forth, face red as he yelled, "What business have you here?"

Geralt looked annoyed, as if he had dealt with this before and then it dawned on Merlin: he had. His face was suddenly gaunt, eyes dead tired as his shoulders sagged just a little.

And then he realized something else.

"They think Geralt did it," Merlin whispered into Gwaine's arm.

"So? We don't know the laws of this place, mate," Gwaine explained.

"Yes, but-"

"Just visiting my friend here," Geralt gestured roughly to Jaskier behind him, "had a performance today."

The guard regarded the four of them with glazed eyes, thin lower lip paling as it curled back into a sneer, "Jaskier? Yes, well I demand to know the source of magic!"

Merlin swallowed, averting his gaze as Geralt said something else. Pulse quickening, Merlin thought he was going to be sick as Geralt's voice became quite hoarse, gravelly and thick. 

"The performance is done," Geralt said though grit teeth, "Let my friends go home."

"Ah, Geralt-" Jaskier started, only for Geralt to shush him.

"No answer for the magic then?" the guard demanded, jabbing a thick finger into Geralt's chest, "So be it. Lock the witcher up in the hold- the rest of you are free to go."


End file.
